


A x Battle x of x Wills

by JuneJulySeptember



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Blood and Gore, F/M, Gen, Hisoka POV, M/M, Machi POV, Multishipping, Queer Character, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:33:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21997564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JuneJulySeptember/pseuds/JuneJulySeptember
Summary: My idea of how Machi and Hisoka met. And how they learned to work together.Or... more accurately: how Machi learned how to handle Hisoka.
Relationships: Hisoka/Illumi Zoldyck, Hisoka/Machi (Hunter X Hunter)
Comments: 39
Kudos: 104





	1. The first

**Author's Note:**

> For this story I played with Machi's Nen abilities and back story a bit. Hope you like it!

Machi blinks at the screen, a frown wrinkling her brow, and then scrolls back up to the abstract. There’s something buried in this paper she’s not seeing yet, some crucial detail that’s tickling at her instincts telling her to sift and sort and dig until a clear idea is formed.

A presence at her side threatens to distract her so she hunches closer to the computer screen, focusing on the words that are so close to meaning something more.

“Machi”

Shut up. Shut up.

She’s so close. A few more read throughs and—

“Hey Machi!”

Barely suppressing a growl, she finally blinks and looks up. “What?”

Shalnark is standing over her with his fake eyes and overbearingly sweat aura.

“Time to start.” He says with a friendly smile. “Everyone’s here.”

That can’t be right. Machi blinks a few times and takes in her surroundings again. When she’d arrived at the opulent town house, Pakunoda had informed her that the estate was at their disposal and Machi hadn’t asked any questions. The others would be arriving in the evening and she had her own job to do.

It can’t have been eight hours already. Yet troupe members are milling about all over the place, getting settled on one of the many plush pieces of furniture. Her stomach drops. Shoot.

Machi glances down at her watch and forces herself not to groan. Time really is up and she doesn’t have the answer. The annoying buzz of missing something is more distracting to her than failing the Boss. He's not unreasonable.

Although. Maybe it’s another distraction. Machi glances up sharply when an unfamiliar aura snags her attention and her eyes zero in on a tall man with pink hair. Suddenly, her body goes stiff: an instinctual reaction. The man’s aura is undoubtedly strong and his movements scream of contained power but that’s not what stops her dead, heart rate spiking uncontrollably.

It’s his _eyes_. Amber eyes that burn with a sly, predatory hunger. Eyes that smile and observe and _know_ , without explanation or further study.

Eyes that are locked on the Boss.

His focus is so powerful it makes Machi’s skin crawl. The phantom troupe is home to some of the most powerful Nen users in the world.

And this man…

This man scares her.

She frowns.

Who _the fuck_ is this guy?

After introductions are made, information is shared and strategies are decided upon, the troupe moves out. Michi is quietly observant throughout.

The new guy goes with Shizuku, a call Michi approves of. Shizuku is calm headed and can handle the scheming clown. Hisoka. She mules the name over on her tongue like a sour candy. Another transmuter. Evidently, he killed their last number four, which seems like an inherent cause for distrust but no. That’s just the way of the troupe. Strength is honored above even loyalty. Machi struggles not to grind her teeth.

It takes a few hours but once they’re all on scene, the wait outside the target’s residence isn’t long. Offensive teams move in and Machi waits until called.

“Third floor, Machi. I need them taken out quietly.”

“Got it.”

She glides through the underbrush; thankful a job is in the countryside for once instead of the city. No real need to hide. Her mouth quirks up in an almost smile as she leaps up to the third story, power driving through her body in an unrestrained wave of Nen as she hardens it for the impact, fingers digging into the solid rock face. Glancing in through the window she spots five sweating guards. She takes them down before they have time to be _more_ scared.

It’s a mercy, honestly. If another member of the troupe had gotten to them, there’d be pieces scattered down the hallway. As is, Machi quickly lifts and hauls the unconscious forms into a nearby room and shuts the door. No need for the others to see. Killing involves a lot less liability; she knows that, but these men won't wake for hours so there’s no real danger. And while that’s objectively true, she’s found it’s best to be covert. The Boss never harasses her about her bad habit of leaving pawns alive so the others don’t either. Mostly.

“Shit. Shit. _Shit_.”

Machi pauses to listen intently through her earpiece.

“Phinks, what’s wrong?” Shalnark asks predictably.

“I fucked up. Machi come to the third floor on the east tower. I need you, _now_.”

A cold wave washes through her. “In route.” She says already sprinting. Indentations from her passing mare the stone and she’s whipping open a wooden door to find a bloody scene. Their target is moaning on the floor while the two stumps of his legs pulse with blood, soaking the rich carpet beneath.

“He put up more of a fight than I expected.” Phinks calls, quickly grabbing as many pieces of the man’s shattered legs as he can find. Other members of the troupe start to slip into the room. “Will this be enough?” he asks as Machi comes to kneel down next to the dying man.

She barely glances over what he’s grabbed, trusting both instinct and Phinks thoroughness. “Close enough.” She says focusing on her Nen aura as well as the man whose legs got _ripped off_. His aura isn’t particularly strong but he is trying to stop the bleeding.

She puts her hand on his face and his eyes instantly jump to hers in fear. “Listen to me. I can save your legs but I’m gonna need you to work with me alright? I’ll start with the right leg, it’s more mangled. When I say so, drop the aura you have around that area so I can work, you got it?” His skin is soaked in the sweat that comes from extreme pain, eyes dilated in an animal kind of panic but he still manages to nod.

“Good. Just hold on.” She drops her eyes to the wound again, and doesn’t need to look at Phinks to know that he’s listening. “How long?” she asks.

“About three minutes.” He says and Machi nods.

“Ok get ready.” She says touching the injured man's thigh as a reminder. “And release!” He drops his aura and Machi freezes time.

Just for that area. Just for an instant. But for Machi, it’s four minutes of hell. She feels everything as time reverses and the leg experiences everything it did in the last for minutes, in reverse. Her leg bleeds out, shatters, and then heals.

Part of her Nen ability involves her experiencing everything a creature she uses her abilities on does. It’s excruciating. And humbling.

Machi strangles a groan behind closed teeth as the blue glow and pain recede. Now she’s the one sweating. Her heart pounds in remembered pain.

Dammit Phinks.

“Ok.” She says, firmly while forcing her limbs not to shake. “Next one.” She stands to move to his other side and is exceedingly proud when her movements are smooth and controlled. She’s getting better.

“Get ready and… release.” The next one isn’t as horrific, as she predicted, and the man cries in relief when it’s done. Though he doesn’t bother to thank her. Rude.

Machi slumps a little, wiping her forehead. She’s gotten better but reversing time _and_ experiencing such severe injuries still makes her head pound.

“My, _my_. What a _fascinating_ ability.” The voice is almost jokingly smooth with a deep cadence that makes her skin crawl. Machi doesn’t need to look up to know who said it.

“Whew you really saved my ass, with that.” Phinks says as he gently slaps at the incoherent man’s sweaty face, then promptly lifts him and slings the man over his shoulder. “I owe you one, Machi.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She says, feigning a casualness she doesn’t feel and rising to dust off her clothes to hide the tremble in her hands. “Maybe make it up to me by _not_ mortally wounding our live captures.”

Phinks winces. “Uhh yeah, fair. I’ll work on that.”

“The other floors are all clear. We should head out.” Shalnark chirps in his stupid voice, as though everything is perfect. Though maybe for him, it is.

Back at base, they regroup and hand off the target to a few other members of the troupe for the second phase of the plan. Machi’s part is mostly done, so she heads home, rather excited about reading up on the issue the Boss has given her in further detail.

She falls asleep in her own bed and wakes up to the face of a smiling clown.


	2. Chapter 2

Machi sleeps like a rock.

In fact, the overwhelming effects of Nen usage, extreme pain and an interesting mental puzzle relaxes her enough to sleep for almost nine consecutive hours. Probably. Feels like she got plenty of sleep. Almost smiling, Machi rolls over, reaching blindly for her phone to check the time and feels a presence. A dangerous one.

Her eyes fly open, gut clenching. No. No way.

The clowns’ face is only inches from hers, beaming. Predatory eyes piercing into her like talons.

Machi can’t help it. Instinct takes over, her Nen surges and he is frozen in time. She scrambles back along the bed to get some distance while her heart pounds, breathing in short undignified gasps.

The first feeling she registers is _rage_ , white hot and destructive.

What the fuck was he thinking? What the _fuck_?

Troupe members occasionally visit with pressing matters and the current mission isn’t over yet so Machi was expecting a _text_ or maybe even a call asking for more information on her assignment but this? This shit? This is not a part of the fucking deal.

Either something really serious happened or this fucker decided it’d be fun to push her buttons. Both maybe. Either way, it takes most of Machi’s considerable will power not to punch him in the face. She stops to think about why that is.

Why not punch him?

Maybe… it’s because she gets the feeling that’s exactly what he wants her to do. He likes provoking people. Pushing others into reacting and consequently getting a better idea about what their emotional and physical limits are. So if she reacts in a _sane_ way, he’ll eat it up. He’d probably grin like a maniac while she bloodied his meticulous face paint. Machi takes a deep breath. Ok no hitting. Shit.

She gets up, dresses for the day, goes to the bathroom, pulls her hair back into it’s customary ponytail and wanders back into her room, hands on hips. She stares at his back for a long time, sighing. This is going to take a considerable amount of patience.

With one last breath, she releases her hold on the clown. Hisoka doesn’t react the way she expects. He holds perfectly still, only swiveling his eyes to look at her and smirk. It's almost arresting enough to break through her hard earned calm. Machi feels another swell of anger when she sees excitement in his eyes. This is all a joke to him.

He rises to his full height with an annoying, graceful slowness, never breaking eye contact.

“Well I’d say good morning, _but..._ is it even morning anymore?” He asks with a pointed look at her clothes. That peculiar, lilting cadence of his voice is even more grating up close.

Machi keeps her expression and Nen carefully neutral. “Don’t do something like that again.” She says slowly, evenly. “I know you’re new to the troupe, but actions like that are dangerous.” His eyes sharpen. Machi can’t tell what he’s thinking so she goes on, hoping to throw him off guard. Just a little. She takes a step forward. “I know you don’t fear pain.” She says quietly, looking up at him. “But I do.”

His eyes widen slightly, though with unexpected mirth or genuine consideration, Machi can’t tell. After a display of her power, people usually take her more seriously.

“Well, I _certainly_ wouldn’t mind seeing you’re abilities up close.” He says leaning down closer into her space, smile and bearing reminding her of nothing so much as a jackal. He’s having fun. He found her words amusing.

Machi does the last thing she wants to do. She holds still, allows him into her space, and twists her mouth into the hints of a knowing smirk, something powerful, calm and condescending. “I know.” She says again. Hisoka blinks.

Then she deliberately and slowly steps away. “Tea?” she asks turning and walking out into her kitchen. He’s clearly not going anywhere so she might as well have some comfort.

If he is shaken in the slightest by her abrupt turn, it doesn’t show. “ _Oh_? Is that a cordial invitation? How delightful. I’d love a cup of tea.” He glides smoothly in and takes a seat at her kitchen counter. The room is open to the living room and light filters in green, past the potted plants in every window.

Machi starts the water, gets out two cups and starts digging through the tea selection. “So what does the Boss need?” She asks, setting the various tea options before him.

“Oh the usual, I gather.” He picks through the packets with delicate fingers. “Apparently, the medical issue needs to be resolved by tomorrow.” His yellow eyes jump to hers. “Not that I really know what _that_ means.”

“Tomorrow is fine. I’ll probably have it done before then.” She shrugs, deliberately ignoring his desire for more information.

His eyes narrow while his mouth smiles. “Well that is good news. I’m sure the Boss will be happy.” It’s a throw away comment but Machi mulls it over anyway. Everything this guy says could mean something more.

Face still blandly neutral, she turns to the whistling pot, pours two cups, sets one down in front of him and then leans against the counter, sipping and staring. He stares right back, a ritualistic kind of humor in his eyes. Like he’s always performing, wondering how people will react and enchanted by the mystery of it all. It’s certainly a unique outlook on life.

He’s not nearly as scary like this. Now that she really _sees_ him. At first glance, he’s just an overwhelming amalgam of virulent energy and malicious intent. It distracts away from the _motivations_ behind the bloodlust.

Curiosity. He wants to _understand_ people. See if they match up to him.

Not to mention his _body_ is an intimidation tactic all by itself. Based on the slender build of his fingers and waist, it’s obvious he developed his musculature far beyond the strength of its base function, which takes significantly more time and energy than muscle gain for someone genetically predisposition for bulk.

No matter how dismissively flamboyant this guy acts, his physical prowess is not to be overlooked. 

They observe each other for long enough that the tea reaches the optimal temperature, just after scalding. Oddly enough, the silence doesn’t feel tense. Machi watches him until she gets bored then wanders over to the couch, grabs her laptop and sits down, feeling his eyes on her.

She sips her tea. Green this morning.

“Soooooo, what exactly are we working on?” Too fast, he’s right beside her, leaning over. In her space. And the expression he wears makes a sudden nausea swirl in her belly. Damn. Dialing the creepy up to eleven, huh?

With careless ease, Machi reclines back into the cushions; computer perched deftly on her knees. “It’s a rather difficult dilemma, actually," She says casually. Like she's having tea with a friend and not a total psychopath. "A degenerative disease that up until now, has only been seen in people from Meteor City. We think someone’s trying to weaponize it.”

Without prompting, the unsettlingly graceful man settles himself on the couch next to her, mere inches separating their shoulders and thighs. Machi forces herself not to pull away. _Control, patience, come on_. He just wants a response.

“And?” He arches an elegant brow. “I assume our recent target was a suspect, or someone close to a suspect then?”

Machi shrugs. “Who knows. That’s not my part of the job. I just have to figure out how they’re spreading the disease.”

“Hmmm.” He takes his first sip of tea. She was beginning to think he was afraid of poison. Perhaps he was just wary of her slipping away if he took his eyes off her.

“You’re a doctor then?”

Machi snorts. “Hardly.” And clicks through the paper she’d been studying last night, pausing briefly to set down her tea and pick up her notes. Might as well get some work done.

“But you do know you’re way around the human body.” He says lightly, letting her make the insinuation if she wants, though his voice does the work for her. Machi doesn’t even have to pretend to be unresponsive. She’s heard that one before.

“And here I thought you were obsessed with originality.” she mummers, making a note. The allele combinations for this set look really promising…

“Oh? Am I being predictable?”

She pauses.

She can her the grin in his voice. The promise.

The malice.

Machi almost doesn’t contain the shiver that chases down her spine. He’s good.

She almost sets her things down and looks at him. Treats him like the threat he’s clearly proclaiming to be. Instead she grins at her computer and says. “Almost.” Just to tick him off.

“Hmmmm.” He hums again, just watching her.

“What’d you say to get them to give you my address, anyway?” Machi asks, still not looking at him. It's not really unexpected but she can't help but feel annoyed. He is a member of the troupe now but _still_. Someone could have at least warn--

“I told them I wanted to fuck you.”

Machi almost snaps the pencil in two. As is, she can’t help how her body goes rigid, how her eyes widen and her hands freeze on the page. He’s unnerved her and what’s worse is, it’s _obvious_. Damn him.

“Well I certainly have bad friends.” She hears herself say through numb lips.

Hisoka laughs. “Is that what you all are. Friends?”

“Some of us.” She finally looks at him and his yellow eyes dart around her face, searching. Something like disappointment flashes over his features. He must not have found what he was looking for.

“Anything more?”

Machi frowns. “Maybe? I don’t know what those assholes do in their free time.”

Hisoka sighs dramatically. “I meant you. Are you taken? Single? Is there someone I need to fight to the death before we fuck?”

Machi feels like she’s been slapped. But of course, that was the intention.

“Eww.” She finally says, struggling for internal composure. On the outside, her face is blank. She's made sure of that. With a heavy sigh, she looks back to her computer. What is she supposed to say to that? He’s clearly digging for a reaction. She doesn’t have time or patience for him to get bored and leave on his own, apparently.

“I’d like you to leave my house now, please.” She says quietly, picking up her notes again.

“Oh? Did I finally hit a tender area?” He jabs in utter delight, just to infuriate her. "You know if you keep playing things so stoic I'll have no choice but to poke at it. It's just in my nature."

She scrolls through the paper and says nothing. He makes a rather whiny noise in the back of his throat. “Come on, what is it? Not into men? Asexual? Traumatic sexual experiences? I'm simply dying to know." He scoots just a little closer, so their sides are touching, mummering so close to her ear she can feel his breath. It's all calculated. He expects her to snap. To hit him. Shove him away.

It goes against every desire in her body, but Machi sits there and does nothing. She takes another note. The silence stretches. 

Hisoka pouts. “Fine.” He sighs dramatically, getting up. “I’ll see you again, soon enough.” His grin speaks of violence.

He politely sets his cup in the sink and slips out the door. Machi takes a few more notes as she feels his aura receding. Twenty minutes later, when he’s well and truly gone, she throws her materials down and starts pacing the floor. She runs to the bathroom and washes her face. She shudders. She washes the few dishes in the sink. She paces. She sprays deodorizer around the house. It neutralizes his smell but there's nothing she can do about the memory of his aura. She does 157 pushups. She pulls her laptop back into her lap and just stares at it. She does 61 pull ups. She glares at her innocently closed laptop.

Finally, Machi goes for a run.

It’s not until after the fifty-kilometer mark does her body finally start to relax, the feeling of bugs crawling over her skin start to recede.

How? How did he do it?

Machi grew up in the biggest shithole in the world. She’s been around powerful malice and powerful Nen her entire life.

How did this fucker get under her skin?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loved writing this chapter SO MUCH :D Let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning! This is a Hisoka POV chapter and starts right off the bat with fairly graphic depictions of sex and also contains Hisoka’s rather graphic mental musings as well. Please tread lightly!

It’s eight _whole_ months and thirteen _long_ days before the Phantom Troupe is assembled again.

Hisoka is devouring a beautiful cock when the text message breaks both him and Illumi out of their lustful daze. Illumi immediately sits up. “Answer it.” He says, voice completely calm, as if he hadn’t just been letting out the world's smallest yet most satisfying moans. “It could be important.” He insists, pulling away.

With a sharp grin, Hisoka pops his mouth off Illumi but digs his nails into the other man's’ exposed hips. Hard.

“I’m busy.” He says, giving the treat in front of him a sensual lick.

Faster than the eye could track, Illumi twists free of Hisoka’s hold, out of the bed, and begins pulling on his clothes. “I have to get going anyway.”

In a flash, Hisoka is up and grabbing into his hands, not with Nen—that’s an unspoken rule between them—but still hard enough to give the other man pause. “Not yet.” Hisoka drawls quietly, seductively, breathing in Illumi’s calming scent, pressing their faces close together.

Illumi pulls back. Blinks.

“Nine minutes.” He says flatly. Illumi is always delightfully _precise_ and so perfectly _edible_ when he’s flustered like this.

A wide grin spreads across Hisoka’s face. “ _Yes_.”

He quickly checks the message and sighs longingly at the text ordering him and the other Spiders to meet in three days time. So _long_ … So long spent daydreaming, fantasizing, about a fight that is, optimistically, _years_ away.

He looks back at Illumi, grin manic and wide. At least he has something fun to do in the meantime.

* * *

The conference room they’ve commandeered is at the center of the city.

Wonderfully intimate with chairs crowded in close together and large windows overlooking the city. Hisoka hums happily to himself as the discussion becomes heated. They’re still hunting the disease spreader from Meteor City, apparently. Or was just the disease from Meteor City? Oh well. It seems the Spiders have a name _and_ a face to aim their ire towards now and tensions in the small room are rising. A few want him dead _now_. Hisoka loves the rampant play of emotions across their faces.

Only a few are loud or obvious, thankfully, the rest are thoughtful and intense as expected of the Phantom Troupe. Though the frankly outstanding amount of Nen surging in the room is enough to tell Hisoka that even if not everyone is _verbally_ expressing their displeasure, most are feeling it.

The Boss being one obvious exception to this display and Machi another. Hisoka watches her with interest. She’s reclined easily in her chair, hand propping up her chin. There’s not even a hint of emotion coming through her aura or body language.

Like all people worth meddling with, she’s extremely hard to read. To Hisoka, it’s usually obvious when someone is just playing at calm and when they’re actually composed. With this woman, he can’t tell. It sends a thrill of pleasure through him, just remembering their little verbal spare. She’d been so calm! For most of the exchange anyway, and she’d reigned herself in almost immediately when he’d struck a nerve.

If she’s anywhere near the Boss’s level in Nen, Machi is going to make an excellent appetizer. Hisoka shivers. There are a few others here he’s considering as worthy of pursuit… but he’s already gotten his hopes up with Machi. He’s certain she can provide ample entertainment.

For the next phase of the Spiders’ mission, everyone is being paired up. _Perfect._ Final details are being discussed when Hisoka’s voice cuts through the chatter.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I have a suggestion.”

Tension snaps through the room like a perfectly thrown playing card. All eyes find Hisoka and he relishes it. Chrollo gives him that beautiful blank eyed stare. “Yes?”

“Well it seems to me, my skills aren’t being utilized to their full potential. I think, as partners, and with this particular assignment in mind, my abilities would better compliment Machi’s in combat.”

Silence.

Chrollo stares unwaveringly at Hisoka, assessing, processing. Hisoka struggles not to smile. Struggles not to palm himself.

Then Chrollo looks to Machi, clearly asking for her opinion.

Her posture doesn’t change but Hisoka can tell she’s holding intensely still. She glances from Chrollo to Hisoka and back again.

Then a small, unexpected smile pulls at her lips. “Yeah, that’s bullshit. He doesn’t care about combat compatibility; he just wants a chance to hassle me about my Nen. And I don’t have time to play twenty questions.”

What a refreshing response! So candid, so _bland_ , one would think Hisoka has no effect on her at all. She doesn’t even seem _a little_ worried.

Her eyes meet his and Hisoka doesn’t bother to hide his grin.

“Hisoka?” Chrollo asks, face neutral as ever but Hisoka can sense the barest trickle of displeasure. It makes him shiver.

“That’s not entirely true.” He drawls, leaning forward, grinning at Machi. “I’ll admit I’m curious, who wouldn’t be? But my suggestion was based purely on the most effective utilization of my skills. Since I’m new to the troupe, I thought you’d appreciate my input on the matter. Was I wrong?”

Meeting Chrollo’s eye is an utter delight. There’s something incredibly intimate about the exchange.

“Not if you’re being genuine.” He says easily.

“Always.” Hisoka grins.

The Boss looks back at Machi.

Her face is pensive, a slight frown wrinkling her brow as she looks at Hisoka. “I can’t tell… if I have a bad feeling about him in general or just dislike him personally.”

A few of the gathered Spiders chuckle but judging by the look of consternation on Machi’s face, she’s honestly frustrated for not knowing. Hisoka laughs outright.

Chrollo seems to put an inordinate amount of weight to her words. He looks at Hisoka considering. “Well, I suppose the only way for you to know for sure, is,” Hisoka can feel Machi’s preemptive sigh and he smiles. “To spend more time with him.”

Machi’s takes a deep breath and nods, resigned. “Yeah you’re not wrong.” She stands up. “Let’s get out of here then, clown.”

* * *

When it’s just the two of them overlooking the cityscape from a dilapidated rooftop, Hisoka decides to stay quiet and let his presence do the work. He knows she _expects_ him to needle and pry so Hisoka simply reclines back on an old air conditioning duct and plays with cards.

After a few minutes, Machi glances back at him, expression thoughtful. “You’re behaving.” It’s rhetorical. She's not really looking for a response.

There’s something different about her this time, something… _more_ maybe. Like a scent that grows more powerful as time progresses.

“Yes... And why wouldn’t I be?” He grins lazily at her.

Her head tilts to the side slightly, curious maybe. If she’s uncomfortable or worried in the least, it doesn’t show. Lovely. Just, _lovely_.

“I just wasn’t expecting you to understand the situation you put yourself into.” She shrugs.

Hisoka pauses for a moment, considering. “And what situation is that, exactly?” He may know what she’s getting at, but honestly, his primary concern had been subverting her expectations, not playing games with Spiders.

She just shrugs again, that small, crooked smile twisting her lips. “Glad you’re not as dumb as you act.” She says and then turns back to look out at the building they’re infiltrating. Or are they blowing it up? He may have been a bit… _distracted_ when they’d discussed some of the finer details.

Clearly Machi is not going to elaborate for him, though Hisoka is fairly certain he understands. Chrollo obviously holds her opinion and instincts in high regard and is using this mission to judge Hisoka’s merit as a new recruit. Fine. He smiles to himself. If there’s one thing Hisoka loves, it’s showing off.

When the signal is sent, the two of them tear through the upper stories of the targeted skyscraper like precise and deadly cyclones. Bodies drop in their wake. Out of the corner of his eye, Hisoka notices Machi disable each and every opponent without using her Nen. He forcefully bites his tongue. The no Nen is expected when dealing with such low level adversaries but no killing? How interesting.

Hisoka keeps watch while Machi scrounges through a well-furnished laboratory, nabbing a few seemingly important files and USB drives. Again, Hisoka says nothing, though his silence is having no visible effect on Machi. To the casual observer, it looks like pure confidence and a lack of care about Hisoka as a threat. And that would lead Hisoka to believe Machi is stronger than him, or at least she _thinks_ she is.

However, based on their interactions, Hisoka _knows_ he unsettles her and he has a hunch she goes to great lengths to suppress her natural reactions just to throw him off. She’s no novice. Probably another one of the originals from Meteor City judging by the way Chrollo listens to her. So it’s likely that she’s stronger than him _but_ only in certain categories and she _knows_ it and is therefore wary and evasive, preferring to interact with him as little as possible to avoid Hisoka learning more of her weak points.

Hmm. Hisoka smirks as they rendezvous with the rest of the troupe. Luckily, he’s chalk full of ideas for instigating responses from reluctant partners.

Eight hours later, when the spiders are all together, spirits are high. They’d tortured or killed, or tortured _and_ killed, everyone involved with the disease propagation, which had tainted the reputation of their beloved city.

They’re back in the same office space as before, comparing notes and jests and information. Hisoka is actually rather pleased to be able to witness it. He has a feeling jovial occasions like this one don’t happen very often with the Spiders. And getting to observe Machi like this is fascinating. Hisoka can tell that she’s pleased with the nights work but there’s something _just a little_ off as well. Something strained and forced. He’d noticed it first when the brutal executions had been taking place. Machi hadn’t participated. Though that in and of itself wasn’t overtly telling since Kortopi didn’t partake either. 

The moment Machi steps out of the flow of conversation, Hisoka pounces.

“Enjoying yourself?” He drawls close to her ear.

Her head twists so she can look him in the eye but other than that she doesn’t respond.

“Seems to me you’re rather down about something. Need a shoulder to cry on?” He suggests, bringing up an arm to wrap around her shoulders but she swiftly dodges. Hisoka smiles. A few of the nearby Spiders glance their way but say nothing.

“What you’re talking about, clown.” She says arching an unimpressed brow. “This has been one of my favorite jobs.”

“All of it?” He asks stepping forward, grinning. 

Her eyes narrow, “Yeah, all of it. Even hanging out with your sorry ass can’t ruin this for me.” More eyes are being drawn to them. 

“Oh still so _mean_. What more do I have to do to prove myself, hmm? ‘If you kill a Spider you get to be a Spider’. Those are the rules, aren’t they? Or are you telling me I haven’t fully earned my place yet?”

“You may be one of us but I’m not obligated to _like_ every member of the troupe.” She rolls her eyes dismissively but he can see the tension in her shoulders.

“Yes but a certain degree of trust is needed to be an effective team, am I wrong?”

She’s silent for a moment and Hisoka internally crows at that little victory. The whole room is now obviously listening.

“Trust takes time.” She returns, just like he hoped she would.

“ _Yes_ but the question is: am I going to receive that time? Was tonight’s little outing enough to satisfy your bad feelings about me or not?” He steps closer, leaning into her space and she holds her ground, tilting her chin up just slightly. She can’t back down. Not with him. Not with everyone watching.

The room is oppressively quiet. Machi is sweating. She hates the attention more than he ever could have anticipated. How _delightful_. “It’s up to you isn’t it? You say the word and I’m gone? Well how about it then. What’s the verdict? I'm I a spider or not?” He gives her his best unnerving grin.

She glares up at him silently, jaw clenched. Thrills race through Hisoka when he recognizes something in her eyes. It’s a complex concoction of rage and pride and animosity that reminds him achingly of how Illumi looks just before he comes.

Then, without any warning, Machi sighs, drops her head, and completely derails Hiskoa’s well-laid plan.

Tension leaks out of her shoulders and her stance relaxes back into its trademark blasé form. She takes another deep breath and looks up, all apprehension gone from her face. Emotions _completely_ under control, like switching off a light.

_Well_.

Color him impressed.

“You’re good for now.” She says with a tiny twist to her lips before her eyes shift, addressing Chrollo.

“The negative feelings I get from him are mostly personal, I think. Though… I’d be lying if I said there isn’t something else there. After thinking about it for a while, I realized it’s because his threat isn’t immediate.” She glances back at him, expression serious. “But that doesn’t mean it won’t come eventually. I just have no idea when.” She grimaces as if her lack of absolute clairvoyance is shameful.

Chrollo blinks, seemingly unfazed. “I think I understand. And if that’s the case, then we will continue to operate under the assumption that Hisoka is one of us until such a time that evidence arises to suggest otherwise.”

Machi nods, still holding eye contact with Hisoka. The man in question struggles valiantly to contain all the excitement aroused by being outmaneuvered by such a worthy opponent. How truly _fabulous_ this was. Machi just effectively ensured that while he remained a member of the troupe, all the _other_ members would be wary and ten times more watchful of him. Keep your enemies close, and all that. Machi just made his objective ridiculously more difficult.

Hisoka positively beams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super nervous about this chapter and not sure if it's coherent enough? Let me know if things don't make sense! Love and hugs.


	4. Chapter 4

The next few months are calm. Machi goes to work, remedies minor injuries from the back of an ambulance or more often, the dingy back rooms of crack houses or the foul gutters of derelict neighborhoods. Places where normal paramedics wont go. Places her Nen is most useful. Places that remind her of home.

No matter how much time she takes off randomly and without warning, the weary managerial staff never fires her. She’ll come in after eight days of no contact and they’ll put her right back on the schedule without question because they _know_. They understand what she does for the people of this city and so they don’t care what _else_ she may do. It took a while to find, but the staff she works with now is so accommodating Machi actually feels guilty when she has to leave them short handed without notice. Over the years, she’s started sending in texts when she knows she’ll be gone or when she thinks she’ll get back. They seem to appreciate it.

They give her almost free reign on which calls and cases she wants to do.

Lately, she’s been doing all of them.

Why? She asks herself as she stumbles into her apartment after an unnecessarily long shift where she answered and resolved thirteen cases.

At age twenty-six, and after years of continuous Nen usage and practice, Machi’s probably close to the ceiling of her abilities. Near mastered most of her skills.

So why is she pushing again?

The answer is there, hovering at the back of her psyche, taunting her, and she’d really rather not address it just yet, so instead, Machi keeps coming home from work hours later than usual with exhaustion dragging at her bones. It feels good. Flexing her Nen. Getting stronger again.

It takes weeks but eventually, her recovery periods start to shorten. The amount of time she can reverse on a human body starts increasing again. Machi feels satisfaction hum through her sore body.

After a few months—long past the stage when her co-workers had tentatively suggested she take time off—Machi can heal injuries that are several _months_ old: an unimaginable feat for her fifteen-year-old self. A huge grin takes over her face the day she tries and succeeds at that. She’s broken the ceiling.

Disappointingly, something that never changes is how excruciating the reversal process is. No matter how physically strong she becomes, no matter how quick she recovers, healing always hurts.

It’s deep winter, almost ten months after their initial meeting, when the source of that training flame finds her again.

Well it’s not like she was hiding. Hisoka knows where she lives. So it’s almost more _annoying_ than _surprising_ when she hears his voice from around the corner of the yoga studio’s open doors.

“…No this is my first class… Oh we’re new in town. I thought this would be a nice way to get to know people.” He _giggles_.

Machi’s eyes widen and her whole body freezes mid stretch. Why would he come here? Just to fuck with her most likely, but why, oh why couldn’t he do that in the privacy of her home? Why _here_?

Machi’s teeth grind. _The mission_. Hisoka must have picked up on her subtle distress when he’d confronted her in front of the Spiders and correctly assumed a public display would tick her off more than antagonizing her in private would. Fuck.

Machi groans quietly into her knees, just to get the sound out of her system.

She’s going to have to be patient again.

When he walks in, Machi slowly raises her eyes to meet his. The lighting is low, adding another layer to Hisoka’s already unnerving expression. He grins at her and Machi feels her face go blank. She almost doesn’t notice the slighter man that slips in behind him.

Of course once she does see the other man properly, Machi wishes she’d gouged her eyes out. Or that she can go on looking at him for the rest of her life. She can’t decide.

The man that walks up to her with Hisoka is beautiful. His hair is a thick black curtain that flows down to his thighs, swirling around his sinuous, bared torso like a mermaid underwater. Huge dark eyes dominate his face and the expression he wears is somewhere between bland indifference and a hyper vigilance so well honed as to be mistaken for ease. Machi feels a thrill race through.

This man is _dangerous_.

What the fuck, Hisoka? Overkill, much?

Machi stands as they get close, turning to face them directly instead of staring at them through the mirror. “Hisoka.” She says, casually stretching one arm overhead.

“Machi,” The way he says her name makes her shiver. Not in the good way. “It’s been too long.”

“Not _that_ long.” She says tersely.

“Oh Machi, dear, who are your friends? Such handsome young men.” One of Machi’s favorites, Sherry, waddles over and smiles up with wrinkled, guileless eyes that wrenchingly remind the pink haired woman she has to be civil. Not only to set the tone for Hisoka and his friend, but also to ensure normalcy in case Machi ever wants to come back to seniors yoga again.

Which she does.

Fuck.

Machi swallows her resentment and says with a more polite voice. “Sherry, this is Hisoka and…”

“Illumi.” Hisoka provides with an odd grin. The scarily good-looking man says nothing. “It’s wonderful to meet you.” Hisoka continues, taking Sherry’s hand and fucking _bowing_ low over it like a fucking dignitary. Every woman in the room collectively swoons. The temperature rises by fifty degrees. Machi struggles to contain her disgust but Sherry giggles and bats at him, saying “oh you”.

Well at least someone is enjoying themselves. Machi sighs.

The plan seems pretty obvious. Hisoka is going to play nice and act polite while the threat of two powerful, and likely sadistic, Nen users interacting with these kind and harmless civilians slowly wears away at Machi’s composure. But it’s _Hisoka_ so there must be some more complex components, some horrifying trick up his sleeve… She uses Gyo to survey the area and sees no sign of Bungee Gum. Hmm.

There must be something else she’s missing.

Hisoka looks at her, smirks maliciously, and deliberately moves a hand to his hip, drawing attention to his bare abdomen along the way.

Machi frowns. 

No. No way. He can’t honestly be trying to distract her… with his body, can he? She’s a fucking paramedic, a goddamn professional who sees naked bodies all the time. Hisoka may be healthy and rather more muscular than the average human but that’s not exactly new to her either. She’s a member of the Phantom Troupe for fucks sake; she’s seen nice abs before.

So no. Hisoka can’t possibly think this display would work on her so it has to be a different plan. There’s something in his eyes though, that knowing look he often sports that always puts her on edge.

He leans forward, opens his mouth to no doubt say something predictably creepy when the instructor chooses this moment to bound into the room with chipper intent. “Ok everyone! Lights low, heats on, who’s ready to sweat?”

Machi feels her mouth twitch up when Hisoka pauses mid creep. The teacher keeps talking about the class, moving to the front of the room, people find their mats and Hisoka and Machi adjust their staring contest to the mirror so it looks as though they’re actually paying attention. Hisoka’s scary friend quickly fashions his hair into a neat braid that garners more than a few looks of appreciation.

Class begins.

Right off the bat, the atmosphere is way different from normal and not at all in the way Machi was expecting. She expected even none Nen users to instinctually pick up on the danger permeating the room, to unconsciously subdue the lighthearted banter and the soft giggles and grunts that usually comes with retirees endeavoring physical activity. She expects to have to protect these people.

But as it turns out, Hisoka’s “use my body as a distraction” plan is very effective—on everyone except Machi.

The class of women who frequent this course are wizened, silver haired, spry, and as it turns out, absolutely _shameless_ in their old age. Every time a warbling voice calls out ‘how easy this looks for you boys’ or ‘look at those muscles!’ and the class erupts in laughter, Machi has to bite her lip and hide her face in her arm to keep from joining in. It’s just too perfect.

It’s obvious Hisoka meant to scare her by coming into this vulnerable space with an absurdly powerful ally as backup.

Instead, Machi stifles her laughter as sly as fuck old birds give propriety the middle finger and tease the Asses of two attractive young men.

Unsurprisingly though, Hisoka thrives on the attention. If he's at all upset about his plan backfiring, it doesn't show. He flirts back outrageously, makes blatant suggestions about how they could put him to good use around the house and so forth. The women laugh. It’s genuinely hilarious and Hisoka throws a smug looks Machi’s way when he catches her smiling. She rolls her eyes.

After class, the women crowd around and ask questions, Machi’s least favorite pastime, and so she busies herself wiping down her sweaty mat.

“So how do you know our girl, huh? Are you Doctors?”

“Yeah, Machi’s never brought a man here before and now she brings two?”

The room laughs.

Machi’s eyes hurt from rolling them so far in the back of her head. That’s the women’s favorite topic/line of questioning. They are _constantly_ harping on Machi to “settle down with a nice young man from my church”. Jesus.

Machi focuses on rolling up her mat, allowing Hisoka to make up whatever story he wants.

“Actually, I asked her out at work and this is the only place she’d agree to take me on our first date. Isn’t that cold?”

Machi closes her eyes and sighs. Of course he would. She stands with her belongings.

“This was not a date.” She says rolling her eyes yet again. “He’s just a flirt. You saw that well enough for yourselves.”

Giggling.

“Awe just because I flirt a lot doesn’t mean I don’t mean it.” Hisoka pouts and Machi just raises a brow. The class starts to disband, women moving slowly towards the door, walking, talking.

Moving... so... slowly. 

Machi refuses to acknowledge Hisoka's eyes on her and instead wills the women forward with her mind. 

Come on… _End my suffering!_

Hisoka comes right up to her shoulder as if to whisper in her ear, Machi stiffens but he slips right past her and throws a muscular arm around Sherry’s boney shoulders. “You know Machi best right? How do you think I can convince her to go on a date with me, hmm?”

He grins at Machi and she feels her hands clench, teeth grinding in her skull.

“Well our girl is awfully independent…” Sherry pats a finger to her chin, face scrunched in thought while Machi glares at Hisoka. “Can’t see her going for the traditional approach. I almost—” she stops to laugh self-consciously, looking up at Hisoka. “I always imagine she’ll fall in love with one of her patents, you know? Someone she can help, someone who needs her.”

All of a sudden, Machi body stills. It feels like there’s a vice around her throat, squeezing.

How… how does Sherry know her so well? And why, out of all the people she could have said that too, did it have to be Hisoka?

The clown's eyes shine.

“Though I suppose that doesn’t help you much though, does it dearie?” Sherry actually reaches up and pats Hisoka’s face and the widening of his eyes is almost worth the bother of him learning more about her.

“If I were you,” Sherry whispers conspiratorially. “I’d take our girl somewhere she can relax.” She taps her nose, winks at Machi and then wobbles out of the room.

It’s quiet. People are moving around in the distance but the doors to this room are now shut, keeping the noise muted. Hisoka’s eyes meet hers and they stare at each other for a long moment. It’s odd how she can never really tell what he’s thinking when he so obviously wants her to think it’s something sexual.

“Well?” He prowls forward while Illumi watches passively. “Should I injure myself or take you to a spa, what do you think?” He smirks, stopping to loom over her so close Machi has to crane her neck to look him in the eye. Asshole.

She quirks a brow, “I certainly wouldn’t mind if you were too injured to _speak_.”

“Awe but you like my voice.”

Machi sighs. “Just tell me what you want, Hisoka.”

“But I’ve already said.” He grins slowly, “I want to fuck you.”

“That’s not your real reason for harassing me, that’s just a distraction that you found happens to make me uncomfortable. What do you _actually want_?” She’s getting real sick of his games. Sick of the way he can make her heart clench in fear even when she _knows_ he has no intention of following through. 

Even when she knows she can beat him now.

Hisoka moves slowly, giving her the chance to knock him away but she allows him to reach and put a hand on her neck—right over her pulse. He leans down so their faces are almost touching and whispers “Nothing I can talk about here.”

Machi glares. He’s always being so dramatic. She tosses his hand off. “You’re the one who came here, asshole.”

“Yes and it’s been so _fun_.” He smiles. If she doesn’t agree to go somewhere with them now, Hisoka will just pull another stunt like this later: that’s what he’s saying. Machi's eyes narrow.

“Great,” She says sardonically, stepping back. “Then let’s not do this again. Ever.”

“That depends entirely on yo—”

“Actually, Hisoka,” She cuts him off firmly with a glare. “It’s going to depend entirely on whether or not you’re alive in the next few minutes. Do you want to die? Is that why your harassing me? Because—”

Illumi moves and Machi freezes him on instinct, springing out of Hisoka’s range in the same moment.

“Oh a little jumpy, are we? Illumi wasn’t going to hurt you. He’s just here as a bit of moral support. You see I don’t go out on a limb like this very often.” Hisoka stalks closer again, an odd expression on his face. “Machi, don’t you know? I’ve been watching you this whole time. And I,” He visibly shudders and his eyes drop to half-mast. Uh oh. His voice drops an octave. “I see how much _stronger_ you’ve become. I’m not lying when I say I want to fuck you, but more than that…” He trails off, voice becoming alarmingly breathy, eyes drifting shut. “I want to kill you too! I want to see the surprise in your eyes when blood leaks from a thousand wounds. I want to drink it in! You’re always so careful but there are two times in a person’s life when they show who they truly are. When they’re dying… and when they’re coming.” He opens his eyes and leers at her. “So, what will it be? Death or…” He asks dramatically pointing at her and something inside Machi snaps.

“Oh for fucks sake.” She says throwing up her hands and freezing Hisoka in time while simultaneously releasing Illumi. She can’t freeze multiple people at once and Hisoka probably suspects that given the other man’s presence.

“Illumi,” She sucks in a deep breath while the dark haired man blinks owlishly between Hisoka’s frozen form and her. “Are you here to help him kill me?”

“No,” His voice is as smooth and blank as his expression. “I believe Hisoka merely brought me here to show off.”

“What?” Machi frowns. “How so?”

“You’re formidable.” Illumi states simply. “He wanted me to see. And he wanted to see how you react when threatened, I presume. It wouldn’t be hard for the two of us to kill you, though it was obvious from the start how little you cared about that. Meaning you’re either supremely confident in your abilities or that you understand Hisoka enough to know that when he does try to kill you, he’ll come alone.”

“Or both,” Machi shrugs. “I doubt either of you could kill me alone but I’ll also know when he means business.”

“Indeed. I can see why he’s so excited by you.”

Machi grimaces, not really knowing how to respond to that and there’s a thoughtful pause in the quiet air. This room must not be being used for another class anytime soon.

“So, you really didn’t know why he brought you here?”

Illumi shrugs. “Hisoka likes surprises.”

“Hmm.” Machi grunts looking at the man in questions' frozen form. “I’ll probably have to kill him eventually, you know.”

“I’d prefer that you didn’t.” Illumi’s voice doesn’t change pitch but something distinctly unnerving enters it all the same. “He’s mine.”

Machi rolls her eyes in exasperation. “Then keep him away from me, you fuck. Do you have any idea how many times he’s almost annoyed me into killing him? If letting him live is going to be this much of a headache, I’d rather just stop his heart right now.”

Illumi moves. Fast.

So fast Machi has to close her eyes and use Nene and instinct to dodge the projectiles he sends her way. Damn he’s good.

“ _But!_ ” She barks out, eyes snapping open. “I _won't_ if we can come to an agreement.”

“And what are we negotiating? Our lives?” He pauses, cocking his head to the side in an oddly adorable motion. “I promise I will make your remaining days on this earth excruciating if you kill him now.”

Machi actually laughs. “My days are already excruciating, pretty boy, you don’t scare me.”

“Hmm.” He seems to weigh her words. Consideration enters his eyes for the first time since they’ve been talking. He’s more cautious now that he knows how fast she is. Good. He should be. “Wake Hisoka up. I have no feelings on the matter, other than the stipulation that he remains alive for now. If you want to negotiate, it should be with him.”

“But… you’re so much more reasonable.” She grumbles.

A tiny twitch of his mouth gives Illumi away. “Yes.”

They both look at Hisoka’s frozen form. Machi groans again.

She slaps her own face a few times, muttering. “Ok… ok, I can do this. I can do this. It’s fine.” And with a flick of her hand unfreezes the man.

HIsoka blinks his yellow eyes. “Oh I’ll never get used to that. So what did you two talk about? Me? I bet it was me.” He grins slyly.

Machi sighs.

“We’re going back to my place, clown, you win this round.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Agh this one was so hard to write! I redid it like four times XD
> 
> Hope the end product is worth it, thanks for reading and commenting guys! it's so nice to have feedback.
> 
> Love and hugs.


	5. Chapter 5

When they walk out into the noisy street, Machi is surprised when Illumi and the Clown start walking in the opposite direction from her apartment. The sun is just setting and the sounds of traffic are jolting after the quiet intimacy of the studio.

“Bye bye, Machi! See you soon.” Hisoka calls, curling his fingers in the shape of a heart in front of his chest then blowing her a kiss. Jesus Christ. Machi wrinkles her nose. They walk off without further explanation, colorful outfits lost in the crowd.

Machi stares after them for a long moment, frowning, and then finally shrugs and turns away. Whatever they’re up to, at least now she has time to shower.

Machi goes home, sets some food on the stove to warm up then heads to the shower. Under the spray of cool water, she observes the small black spider tattoo on her wrist; distinguished by a large number three at the center of it’s back. She runs a thumb over it, thinking. It’s not that she regrets becoming a spider. Her choices were clear: save lives or lose her own. She could never regret the people she’s saved. It’s just that… being a spider always comes with sacrifices like this.

Situations she’d rather never be in and choices that leave a sour taste in her mouth.

She inhales sharply, breathing in the sent of her shampoo. _No regrets_. Do what you must. And keep moving forward. Brooding by herself in the shower isn’t about to change anything. With a forceful jerk, the spider turns off the water, towels off, puts on a comfy t-shirt, sweater, sweat pants and thick wool socks because it’s winter time and there’s no fucking way she’s paying for unnecessary heating even if she _can_ afford it, and moves out into the kitchen.

Dinner is economical and filling, chicken and rice with a little left over curry. Machi prepares everything calmly then sits down with a book propped open and eats her meal, albeit a little more cautiously than normal.

She’s just putting away the leftovers when Hisoka’s aura alerts her to a presence outside her door. The clown knocks this time. How thoughtful.

Hisoka’s leaning against her door frame like an asshole.

“No Illumi?” Machi asks, glancing down the hall.

“No, I’m afraid not.” Hisoka pouts. “He is a very busy man.”

Machi frowns. Despite the fact that the lithe Nen user was in no way on her side, having him around had made Machi noticeably more comfortable in the clowns company. Instinct tells her, any situation involving Hisoka’s schemes will be safer and less maddening to navigate as long as the other man is involved. She has to get him back here.

“Alright come in.” Machi steps back into the kitchen. “Have a seat.” She says pointing to the couch. “I’ll make t—”

Hisoka moves quickly but Machi literally controls time. She stops him dead when his fingers are a few centimeters from her shoulder and steps to the side, releasing him. He fumbles briefly, easily catches himself and then gives her a shit-eating grin.

“None of that.” She says stone-faced. “In fact,” Machi crosses her arms. “There won’t be anything happening here at all unless Illumi is present. Get him here or get out. I have no interest in dealing with you without him.”

Hisoka’s eyes widen just slightly. “Oh? How long was I under your spell exactly? I knew you were talking about me.” He grins. “Why exactly should I bring Illumi here?”

“Because I might kill you if you don’t.” As soon as the words are out of her mouth, Machi’ knows they’re a mistake because Hisoka’s eyes positively _light up_ in some sort of insane mixture of arousal and glee.

“I _mean_ ,” She huffs, recanting. “You should have him here as backup so I don’t _accidently_ kill you. And anyway, you’re the one who dragged him into this in the first place. You can’t just let him tap out now.”

“Hmm. Can’t I? If you’re promising such tempting things I really don’t see why I shouldn’t.” He leans forward, hands on hips, grinning. Always grinning.

“If you don’t, I’ll just go on ignoring you.” Machi shrugs, holding his gaze. They stay like that for a long moment, yellow eyes searching uncaring blue.

Finally, Hisoka straightens up. “Hmmm. Alright.” and pulls out his cell phone.

Her eyebrows ratchet up at his easy compliance, then she frowns, mentally searching through the nebulous cloud that is her instincts, trying to decide if she should call this whole thing off. Nothing feels _too_ off… besides the normal unease of having Hisoka so close. Machi finally sighs and directs him to the couch before going to put the water on heat.

The clown obediently reclines onto her couch in a graceful sprawl, one muscular arm draped of the back. He’s changed into a familiar get up: sleeveless pink shirt, black pants, face paint carefully done and even red studs in his ears that objectively go quite well with his hair. If she didn’t know better, Machi would say he’s dressed to impress.

Machi prepares three mugs and takes out the tea. When Hisoka looks her way she blandly wiggles a cup in question.

“Not for me, thank you. Tea’s never really been my thing. But I’m sure Illumi would love a cup. Jasmine if you have it.” He looks back at his phone.

“Does that mean he’s coming?”

Hisoka shrugs, a lazy grin pulling at his face as he texts. “Who knows? I certainly hope so.”

The innuendo in his voice is hard to miss, Machi half-snorts and turns away. Why is he being so cooperative? Her fingers tap a steady, silent rhythm on the countertop.

The water’s not even hot yet when Machi feels Illumi approaching. He’s on the roof, then suddenly at the side of the building. Two sets of eyes flick to the nearby window that has so many plants as to make entry a pain in the ass. That wasn’t by design; it was just a convenient side effect of her hobby. The idea of watching the lethal man try to maneuver around several small potted cacti is wonderful enough that Machi is preemptively smiling when Illumi casually walks in, _from her bedroom_ and her smile drops.

“How did—what, no.” She glances from Illumi to Hisoka more than a little outraged. “Why is my room so much easier to infiltrate than the rest of my flat? And how did you project your Nen to the _opposite_ side of the apartment?”

“Ah, ah, Machi. If you want to know the answer you have to be willing to trade for it.” Hioka smirks. Illumi blinks passively.

Machi huffs, growls out, “Whatever,” under her breath and then pours the tea. The two men sit on the couch, Illumi very upright and proper and Hisoka distinctly not, and Machi takes the soft armchair opposite after handing Illumi his cup.

This has to be the most awkward tea party she’s ever participated in.

They stare at each other over the coffee table for at least five minutes, Hisoka smirking, Illumi blinking passively and Machi in no particular rush. Illumi sits and sips, for all the world looking like a polite child waiting at the doctors office, while Hisoka’s countenance conjures up ever dirty feeling Machi has ever had.

She sighs. “So… If I agree to fuck you tonight, my demands for what comes after are pretty simple.”

“Oh?” Hisoka’s eyes widen just slightly in surprise and Machi feels a thrill of victory. He wasn’t expecting her to come out and say it. He sits forward, more alert, elbows on knees and chin in his palm. His eyes are bright and predatory. “Go on.”

“First: You’re never to contact me outside work and all work information will be relayed through texts. _Never_ by a personal visit.” His grin widens. “Second: you are never to harass or contact, or have anyone else harass or contact,” She gives Illumi a pointed look. “Anyone I’m associated with outside the spiders. And third: you tell me how you both got in without setting off any of my wards.”

She delivers this all rather dryly, as though selling out was an easy decision to make.

“And if you should choose not to follow any of these rules,” She leans back in her chair comfortably. “My Nen will automatically stop your heart in time, leaving the rest of your body to quickly suffocate. Not a bad way to go, all things considered.”

Glee and arousal seem to war for dominance on Hisoka’s face at that promise and Machi doesn’t bother to hide it as her face twists in an exasperated scowl. Weird-ass motherfucker.

“What a _generous_ offer. I just have one question, what role is Illumi to play in all this? Did you just want a chaperon to keep me in line for negotiations or for the whole evening?”

Machi blinks. She’d forgotten about that part, actually. Illumi’s presence just felt… right. Safer. As soon as she thinks about it for a second, Machi realizes she doesn’t want the expressionless man to leave.

“He stays.”

“Hmmm.” Hisoka looks briefly baffled but that soon gives way to a cunning thoughtfulness. “Why?”

Illumi cocks his head to the side at Machi. “How did you figure it out? I’m certain there was nothing overtly telling in our brief interactions today.”

“Just a hunch.” Machi shrugs.

“Well it’s not like it’s a secret.” Hisoka adds smugly, giving the other man a positively lascivious look.

Illumi turns to him primly. “Not the fact that we’re together, that’s obvious. Machi figured out how much more rational you are when I am present to reason with you.”

Hisoka blinks. “Am not.”

“Yes.” Illumi’s mouth does that odd little twist that’s almost a smile.

Hisoka pretends to be outraged. “I, Hisoka, am the living embodiment of chaotic evil and there is nothing on this earth that can curtail my wild habits and seedy inclinations. Not even you.”

“Not true. Just the other night when I was upside down, you were taking great pains to ensure that the whip—”

“Shit. No. _Fuck_.” Machi chokes on her drink and hurriedly sets the cup down. “Rule four: Never, ever, _ever_ talk about your sexual escapades in front of me… Ever.” She adds just to be clear.

“But Machi, you’re about _to be_ one of our sexual escapades.” Hisoka’s smile is deceptively innocent, like pointing out that it’s raining as water falls from the sky.

Machi groans and puts a hand to her temples, rubbing aggressively. “God, fucking, fuck—.”

“Hmm sounds good to me.” Hisoka purrs.

“Ah, Hisoka, I’d hate to ruin your fun but I’m not at all interested in fucking a woman.”

“Never mind that, darling, I have a few ideas.” They look at each other for a long moment and there’s something extremely… intense about it. A thrill shoots down Machi’s spine at the site of it and suddenly her sweater is uncomfortably hot. There’s clearly a long history between them Machi knows nothing about.

“Uhh. I reserve the right to veto any idea you put on the table.” Machi informs them. Firmly.

“I’m not fucking her.” Illumi says just as resolute, eyes on Hisoka. Almost resentful, actually, as though Hisoka has talked him into doing sketchy shit before and he is finally putting his foot down with this line in the sand.

“Of course not, Illumi dear,” He shoots a look at Machi that is so impossibly voracious she feels her eyes widen and the blood drain from her face. “That’s _my_ job.” He says.

To her horror, Machi’s body goes instantly and tellingly still, like wild game spotting a hunter through a gape in the trees. Hungry eyes hold her captive for a long moment then slide slowly over to Illumi who also stiffens under that zealous gaze.

Then suddenly Hisoka bursts out with, “Oh this is going to be so much _fun_.” Breaking the spell and actually fucking _clapping his hands together_. Jesus, he’s gonna give her whiplash. He’s not making a big deal out of her blatant show fear, though Machi’s certain he saw. He just grins like maniac ready to pounce. You’d think having two cranky, mostly unwilling, partners was his greatest wish in the world.

“Alright, well, last thing is ground rules I guess.” Machi huffs. Judging by the look in his eye, Machi doesn’t have much time left for talking. “If a dick is touching me, it’s wrapped. Don’t piss or shit on or in anything that’s not a toilet and… umm. That’s it for me, I guess.” She raises a brow at them in silent question.

“Are you asking _me_ if I have any stipulations?” Hisoka laughs. “No, Machi, I’m just happy to be here.” Their gazes lock for a searching moment.

Machi narrows her eyes at him. She can’t help feeling like there’s a catch. Something sinister she hasn’t accounted for. Is the promise of sex really enough to get him off her back? Is it Illumi’s presence? Some combination of both?

“He’s being genuine.” Illumi says, sipping solemnly at his tea and Machi is instantly grateful for his presence regardless of whether or not he’s actually an ally. Having literally anyone else around is a comfort, and one that understands Hisoka is doubly welcome.

Hisoka pouts. “It’s no fun if you give her hints.”

Illumi sips his tea.

“Okey, well,” Machi stands up with a sigh. “Let's get this over with. I’ll go get the condoms and lube. Clear a space for us here on the rug.”

“What? Not going to let us see you’re bedroom?” Hisoka somehow manages to roll his body off the couch in a sexy way, hands on hips. “Awfully interesting thing to get _shy_ about. I’ve seen it before, remember?”

Machi snorts. “Yeah I fucking remember. Preventing _that_ from happening ever again is half the reason I’m doing this.” She moves past him to her room and calls over her shoulder. “There’s three of us, idiot, and I like my bed.” She rummages around for a moment and then reemerges from the bedroom with the necessary supplies. “The rug is soft and, hopefully, this way…” She hands him a condom and sets the lube on the windowsill. “Nothing will get broken.”

Hisoka smirks at her. “Expecting me to be rough?”

“I never _know_ what to expect from you.” Machi frowns. “Better to play it safe.”

The area in front of the couch has been cleared like she requested and out of the corner of her eye she sees Illumi graciously setting their coffee mugs in the sink but her view is almost immediately eclipsed as Hisoka moves right up into her space. Like, _right up_ in there.

“This is safe?” He asks, voice low, looming over her, breath on her cheek.

“Better than the alternative.” She says lightly, tipping her head back, completely unwilling to show nervousness. He opens his mouth but Machi cuts him off. “Look do you want to question me all night or do you wanna fuck?”

“Why not both?” He chuckles, slowly raising a hand, mischief glinting in his eyes and strokes down her cotton-covered arm with a single finger. Machi grits her teeth and forces herself not to move. “You must have already guessed I’m a talker in bed.”

“I’ve been working hard _not to_ think about what you’re like in bed, actually.” She answers looking straight at his chest. Those eyes are annoying.

Hisoka laughs, she can feel his torso shake with the force of it since his chest is _in her face_ , and then Illumi is suddenly beside them and Machi should be more concerned about his close proximity but instead she’s just relieved. Until she sees his face and–he’s not even _looking at her_ but–the raw, naked _desire_ in his dark eyes shocks her breath into catching and her heart into pounding. He moves in so his chest is brushing against Hisoka’s shoulder, gazing into the other man’s eyes, demanding attention. Hisoka fucking _preens_.

“Illumi.” He purrs, wrapping an arm around his waist. “Will you do something for me?”

The long haired man simply stares; all of his considerable attention focused on Hisoka and says nothing because it’s obvious the answer is yes.

The clown’s eyelids lower in obvious pleasure and he licks his lips, slipping behind the other man completely and nudging Illumi into his place close to Machi. Hisoka places his hands on Illumi’s hips, his chin on his shoulder and meets Machi’s eye when he whispers. “Be my hands.”

Something about the way he says that shoots heat directly into Machi’s belly. Fuck him. Fuck his smooth voice. Her hands clench and she has no idea what shows on her face but it’s definitely not the blank mask she usually wears.

The apartment is filled with soft sounds, the heater buzzing softly, the fridge making ice. All domestic, normal sounds completely at odds with what Machi is allowing to happen in her apartment as Illumi steps in closer and puts his hand on her arm, exactly where Hisoka’s had been.

Into what feels like a charged moment, Hisoka chuckles lowly and mouths lightly at Illumi’s neck. Illumi glances down at him but makes no other move.

“Hmm that’s right, baby, now touch her face, slow… like I do to you. Brush your thumb over her cheek… just like that.” He snorts softly. “Look at that frown, what’s wrong Machi? Not what you expected?”

“Fuck you.” She says curtly, glaring at the arrogant man. She never would have allowed him to touch her like this but Illumi? Her eyes widen slightly when his deft fingers sneak into her still damp hair and rub in soothing circles. The clown chuckles lowly, his hands running almost lazily up and down Illumi’s body but the other man doesn’t appear to notice. He’s unwaveringly focused on rubbing soothing patterns into Machi’s skull and it really shouldn’t feel so _good_ , she shouldn’t be enjoying this at all, her eyelids shouldn’t flutter at the motions but there’s just been so much _tension_ lately and she’s been busy for the last few years and finding a good partner is a pain and just being touched is a relief she didn’t know she’d been missing.

Hisoka hums happily into Illumi’s neck and Machi’s eyes snap open to glare at him. Smug bastard.

“Oh, so _reluctant_.” The sound Hisoka makes is a breathy kind of sigh. He bites suddenly at the side of Illumi’s neck and the other man’s lips thin infinitesimally but other than that he gives no reaction, just continues his menstruations.

“This one is too.” The clown moans, nuzzling into the flesh he’d just bitten. Then his eyes meat Machi’s, “So don’t fret. I know just how to make you feel good.”

Machi rolls her eyes, “Arrogant pric—” She starts to say when her breath is stolen, knocked out of her as Hisoka grabs her by the hips and pulls her into Illumi’s lean form, sandwiching the other man between them and suddenly bringing Hisoka’s face right next to Machi’s. His breath ghosts over her cheeks, tingling and intense. “You have no idea.”

Then his lips are on hers and she doesn’t even realize she’s tried to jerk away until Illumi’s hands clench in her hair with an iron grip, holding her in place while Hisoka assaults her mouth. Lips and tongue and greedy hands overwhelm her senses and for a moment and Machi can’t breath. She’d expected him to be good with his tongue but that in no way prepared her for the reality of it delving into her mouth. In fact, she has a brief moment of panic when his exploration extends into her throat well beyond where a human tongue should be able to reach.

When they finally release her, Machi gasps, sucking in huge gulps of air. “Fuck,” She pants, “Did you really—”

Hisoka cuts her off again, rudely, by grinding his hips forward and squeezing Machi’s in at the same time to enclose Illumi completely, giving him tight friction from all sides. Finally, the other man makes a sound. It’s small. A little closed mouth grunt she almost doesn’t notice if not for Hisoka’s sharp ecstatic inhale in response.

“That’s right, darling.” He sighs into Illumi’s shoulder, clutching at Machi’s clothed waist and grinding again in a slow, torturous roll. “Show her.”

Machi tries to scoffs but the effort is somewhat wasted since she’s still catching her breath and then Illumi makes it stop again. He moves carefully. Slowly tipping her head back and brushing his lips against her jaw, her neck, in soft feather light touches and it’s so damn good she can’t find it in herself to make him stop. More than that, Illumi’s touch is such a contrast to the harsh, lightning quick way Hisoka moves, Machi finds herself yielding to the gentle touches, letting her head fall back without complaint. Illumi moves with deliberate slowness up the column of her neck while Hisoka grinds leisurely at his back. Wandering hands find their way under her shirt to the bare plains of her abdomen while Illumi’s even breathing and soft lips lull her into letting it happen. His lips are curious, hesitant and exploratory. It makes Machi wonder if Illumi has ever been with anyone but Hisoka.

Then all of a sudden, where he had previously been all soft lips and teasing breath, Illumi clamps down on the space directly below her ear and _sucks_. Machi’s eyes blow wide and there’s an audible snap as she clamps her jaw together to strangle the sound that still manages to leak past her lips as an undignified hiss.

“Oh, _there_ it is.” Hisoka rasps, voice low and breathy. “Don’t stop, love.” He says as he backs up briefly to strip off his top, then start on Illumi’s and Machi’s clothes.

This too she lets happen. Even finds herself reaching to help Illumi pull his undershirt off when she’s striped down to her bra and underwear. Ratty old things she put on deliberately. Knuckles pass along her bare ribs, just where her abs start to show and Hisoka moves in close again, the heat of his skin surrounding her. He presses a hand to her low back, pulling her in against his chest and the heat is so nice she presses closer and runs her hands slowly over his impressive musculature and he chuckles into her hair. “Knew you were looking before.”

She pulls back and reaches out to tug a hesitating Illumi into their close embrace. “Not nearly as much as I was looking at you.” She says frankly, looking up into those impassive eyes. They’re both so damn _tall_. Illumi’s brow wrinkles slightly, as if he can’t fathom why she would be looking at him and Hisoka snorts, clasping a hand on the back of his neck, kissing at his jaw again, nuzzling. It’s a slow thing. Loving, almost. It’s so odd and so touching all Machi can do is watch as Illumi’s eyes flutter closed and Hisoka reverently breathes in the other man's scent.

“She has a thing for tall, dark haired men, I think.” Hisoka mumbles into Illumi’s neck, while side eyeing Machi who can’t help but give an unrepentant shrug in response.

Illumi raises a questioning brow. “You have the same tastes as Hisoka then.”

Machi sputters while Hisoka throws his head back and _laughs_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What'da think?! I have almost zero experiance writing sexy scenes so this took me a while to work out. Please, tell me it's not cringy XP
> 
> This isn't exactly a cliffhanger but I do feel bad for ducking out in the middle of the action ;) This chapter just got a bit longer than I expected and I needed to split it into two halves. Part two next week!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! this chapter is just one big sex scene and since it involves Hisoka, there is some violence and questionable consent, so please read with caution!

Machi is not a social person. Basic evolutionary bullshit demands a certain amount of social interaction and Machi is careful to participate in the minimum amount required to keep her sane and no more. ‘Hanging out’ with other people either bores or exhausts her. She hates it. What other people want or care about rarely enters into her mind. She’s not a strategists, she’s never really had to be, she’s _powerful_.

In this instance, however, Machi’s power means almost nothing and she finds herself desperately wishing she’d spent a little more time, or maybe any time at all, trying to understand Hisoka’s methods and desires because if he switched gears right now and tried to kill her, Machi’s not entirely sure she could stop him.

She also, inexplicably, can’t help thinking about Illumi. What does he really want? Is he comfortable? Why does she care? Why does she feel the bizarre need to shelter a grown man who is clearly insane and willingly dating Hisoka? There probably is no logical answer to anything involving strange men and stranger sex.

For some reason she wants them here. Badly. Wants both of them here, together, in a bizarre, powerful feeling of accomplishment and rightness that she was not at all expecting nor can she explain. So she just… lets it happen.

Hisoka maneuvers them to the floor, a tangle of limbs and lips and hair. Then, somehow, he convinces Illumi to go down on her, murmuring something about mutual pleasure, then pounces on Mach’s unsuspecting mouth with the same fervor he brings to everything and suddenly Machi is responding, surging up into him and grasping at his jaw. Hisoka moans into her mouth and Machi yanks back sharply, taken aback by her own enthusiasm and blinking at his face. Where had that come from?

“That’s more like it.” Hisoka purrs, then turns around to Illumi who is staring at them from his vantage point between her legs with an expression Machi can’t quite place. Hisoka moves his hands down her body in a deliberate drag, holding Illumi’s gaze and the tension between them is fascinating. Like Machi’s body is just a conduit transferring heat and intention from one man to the other.

Without a word passing between them, Illumi lowers down slowly, holding his partners eye and runs his lips lightly down Machi’s thigh, pauses, then moves up again. So slow and light Machi tenses up, waiting for the bite that had come last time his lips had lulled her into indulgence. Hisoka’s hands on her clench, almost spasmodic, and his pupils dilate to black.

“You’re going to fuck me with that mouth.” He says and his voice is so much different than it was before. The teasing is gone. It’s a deep rasp, gravel and restraints and promises. “Got it?”

An imperceptible shiver races down Machi’s spine and she see’s Illumi lick his lips. “Yes.” He sounds as breathless as Machi feels just watching the exchange.

“Good.” Hisoka grins wide and manic and then switches his powerful gaze back to Machi. “Open me up, sweet cheeks,” He orders lowly, reaching for the lube. “He’s about to be very busy and I want to be ready.”

Machi isn’t really opposed to this so she allows Hisoka to coat her hands in the warm, lightly scented oil she prefers and gingerly sets to work. Though almost immediately, she’s distracted from her effort when Illumi’s tongue curls out to give her a tentative, exploratory lick, his long hair spilling over her thighs in soft mesmerizing waves. Her hand pauses for a moment and a soft exhale escapes her nose but she starts right back up again, one finger slowly swirling and dipping, aware Hisoka is watching her.

Hisoka hums contentedly and leans forward to lave at her chest, carving a trail of heat over her small breasts, finding that soft sensitive area just below to nibble at that she always forgets exists until someone’s mouth is on it. Her hands must clench because he moans into her skin like a prayer and thrusts back down onto her finger which elicits a small vibration from Illumi’s mouth which is currently pressed to a very sensitive area and in her turn, Machi gasps. As if all three of them are playing off each other in a disjointed but somehow balanced symphony of bodies. There’s warmth and heavy breathing and hands, hands everywhere. On her hips and grasping at her thighs and wandering to catch in her hair. Perfectly coordinated, as if they really can communicate through her body, Hisoka yanks Machi’s head back and kisses her neck at the exact moment that Illumi grips her thighs and dives his tongue into her center.

Machi gasps, back arching, hands clenching, and snaps her jaw shut with an audible crack to prevent any other embarrassing sounds.

“That’s good, love.” Hisoka sits up, leisurely bobbing on her finger, knees on the ground, thighs working in a seemingly effortless motion. “Make her moan for me.” Machi grits her teeth and rolls her head up to meets his eye, which is definitely a mistake. His eyes make her skin crawl normally and right now that apparently translates to her traitorous body as a blinding surge of arousal. “You can do that, can’t you Machi?” He leans down again to mummer her ear, brushing his lips teasingly against the skin, giving her hair a little yank. “Moan? Come on. I know you feel good.”

Illumi, cruel and devious compatriot that he is, draws a long, agonizing line all the way from Machi’s center to her top and down again without pausing for nearly long enough at the top. Her mouth drops open, and Machi’s breaths come in and out in labored pants as she struggles not to squirm and thrust her hips in a desperate bid for friction. Instead, Machi just narrows her eyes and devotes her attention on working another finger into Hisoka, as carefully and sensually as her limited experience allows. She’s only ever done this once before with a very nervous partner but judging by the way Hisoka’s eyes roll back in his head and he thrusts back onto her fingers; she must be doing something right.

“Oh fuck, that’s good.” His eyes fall closed to Machi’s satisfaction but his fist is still tangled in her hair and he manages to pull and tug in a pleasant rhythm that goes along with the pace of her own hand and Illumi’s thoughtful attentions. Their bodies move so well together it’s almost unsettling.

“Look at you.” Hisoka’s eyes are open and he’s staring at her, mouth open, panting, daring. “I expected you to resists, to grumble, but… letting it happen while entertaining this silent rebellion…” He grins, evil and dangerous. “It’s exactly what Illumi does.”

Machi feels herself clench around Illumi’s tongue and the man groans quietly, either at Hisoka’s words or her, she isn’t sure but it’s the first real sound of pleasure she’s heard him make and it makes her want to scream.

“Even with a natural talent between your legs, you…” He whimpers, swallows and peers at her with altogether too much calculation for a man being fingered. “You’re not even sweating.”

Another wave of heat sweeps through her belly at the pure lucid intent in those yellow eyes and Machi tries to shrug. “Yeah well, it’s cold in here and I’m on my back, you—” The calm almost even tone of her voice is apparently something Illumi finds personally offensive and he retaliates by finally, _finally_ , sucking on her in that terrible wonderful awe-inspiring spot and Machi’s face immediately contorts, eyes squeezing shut, head falling back on the floor with an audible ‘thunk’ while she struggles not to scream.

“ _Yes_.” Hisoka hisses, “There it is. Come on.” And then his tongue is attacking her again, her neck, her chest, he sucks sharply and bites at her damp skin in an artful frenzy. Nothing about him is out of control though: he knows exactly what he’s doing. He listens, pauses when her breath catches, redirects with special attention when she gasps, and his hands are always moving. Grasping to the point of pain but it’s just right. Machi arches off the floor again, teeth clenched, body burning, tension building in her core.

“Come on, Machi.” He whispers in her ear, tongue snaking out to tease her neck as he yanks her head to the side to give himself better access. “I know exactly what you want.” He breaths and Machi feels Illumi’s thin finger slide into her. “I know what you’re too proud to admit.” Illumi is moving against her insistently and Machi tries to distract Hisoka’s attention by unceremoniously shoving a third finger in but he just groans into her neck. “I know how much you enjoy the uncertainty, the thrill of never knowing what I’ll do next.” He lifts a hand brushing it over her chest, her neck and wavering at her mouth.

“I know you like how much I want you.” He plunges two fingers into her mouth, hot and heavy and demanding and Illumi just licks at her unrelenting and firm and Machi can’t help it, with his fingers in her mouth she cant clamp her jaw shut around the cry that escapes her as she throws her head back and comes, shuddering and sudden onto Illumi’s willing tongue.

Hisoka groans happily and rubs at her while she shudders with aftershocks and Illumi’s face, disheveled and adorable, blinks out at her from his lowered position.

“That was it?” There’s a bemused little frown on his face. “That’s much tidier than our finish.” He almost sounds jealous.

Hisoka laughs and laughs, pulling himself off Machi’s fingers and trading places with Illumi, kissing him as he goes, “Kiss her.” He gestures casually running his hands up and down Machi’s thighs hungrily which immediately gets her worried about what he has in mind for round two.

“I’d rather fuck you.” Illumi proclaims for the first time and Machi feels heat stir in her belly all over again despite the fact he’s looking at Hisoka, not her. She’s never been so turned on by watching other people make bedroom eyes at each other.

“I know.” Hisoka says slowly, lowering his head and Machi’s breathing spikes. There’s no way he’s going to—again—“I know what you want, love.” He whispers to the space in-between her legs. He licks her, once, and Machi hisses. “Get a condom for me.” And Illumi quickly grabs one while Hisoka slowly, almost tenderly, explores Machi’s body. She tries not to squirm but everything is so much more sensitive now that she’s come once and Hisoka’s tongue is _long_. Then Illumi is there with soft hands and a firm touch and he’s kissing her thoughtfully, just like he kissed her other lips and Machi releases a pathetic little whimper into his mouth. He yanks back blinking and Machi doesn’t have any time to ponder his expression because Hisoka moans and shoves his tongue deep inside her and Machi’s mouth is already open in shock and the startled cry makes it out in all it’s embarrassing fullness.

“Oh that’s too good.” Hisoka moans. “Illumi.” Hisoka grabs the back of Illumi’s neck and smashes their mouths together in a wet, aggressive tangle of want and warmth and they both moan. Then Hisoka’s hands are rolling on a condom and Illumi is moving behind him and Hisoka’s hands are on Machi’s thighs and there’s hunger in his eyes and then he’s crawling over her, one hand on her hip the other in her hair and he’s kissing her wildly and pushing his way inside. Jesus fuck, he’s bigger than she expected or maybe it’s just been a while. Perfectly at odds with his frantic tongue, Hisoka pushes in unbearably slow. His girth widening her out, her center slowly expanding to accommodate: it aches exquisitely as he forces through the tight ring of muscle until their hips are flush. The fit is smooth and tight and when he pulls back just slightly, Machi clenches, keeping him inside and Hisoka drops his head and groans loudly into her chest.

Then there’s movement behind them, between their legs and Machi can see Illumi lining up and then Hisoka cries out, throwing his head back and thrusting forward with Illumi’s movement to bury himself inside her. And then they’re all rocking and groaning and gasping as Illumi snaps his hips forward and grinds Hisoka’s hips into Machi’s and she yells at the pressure, at the fullness and Hisoka thrusts sharply into her again and again with Illumi doing the same from behind him. Wet slapping and wet gasps from open mouths are the only thing Machi can hear through the pounding of her body into the floor. They drive into her, relentless and steady, the perfect push and pull. Her body clenches around Hisoka as he pumps shallowly, gasping endearments and curses into her hair and over his shoulder, as Illumi bites and licks at his back.

“Fuch your perfect… both—both of you are… perfect.” Hisoka moans from his elbows above her. “So wet.” He grunts. “So hard.” He thrusts back, spearing himself on Illumi and the other man gives a strangled moan and bites down hard on Hisoka’s shoulder, snapping his hips forward instinctively. The pressure is insane. Every time they move, it hits Machi with the weight of a truck, driving the breath from her, making her back arch. Hisoka is so deep inside her now, not really pulling out, just pumping in, her knees up near his shoulders.

“Machi, Machi.” Hisoka coos, dropping a hand to her naked thigh, digging his nails in. “Talk to me. Does it feel good?” He slackens slightly and thrusts in slow, expertly rolling his hips. “Tell me.” He drags himself halfway out and the incriminating wet suction sounds are impossible to deny. “I know you feel good.” He grins, dropping his mouth to nuzzle at her ear again. “Tell me. I want to hear you say it.”

Illumi has stalled behind him, running his hands up and down Hisoka’s body, content to wait. Hisoka licks into her ear and rocks into her and Machi is already gasping what more does he want? Her hands clasp at his shoulders and she thrusts up, plunging him inside her and they both groan wantonly but then Hisoka is laughing. “I know, I know it feels good, baby.” He laughs into her mouth, hot and panting and thrusts a few times before stalling again to whisper. “But I need something from you.”

Machi groans and lets her head fall back and frowns at him. “It feels good.” She says shortly and Hisoka laughs again, rewarding her by rolling his hips. “What else?” He slumps forward again, running his hands over her face. Illumi starts moving slowly and they all rock together.

“I, fuck. I” Machi licks her lips and swallows. Hisoka traces her lower lip and sneaks his thumb inside. “You like this?” he asks with a moan. She nods jerkily and he slaps her. “Say it.” He rumbles with a thrust. And she gasps out a strangled yes and he moans into her mouth and licks away all other thought. Their thrusts start picking up speed again. “Say it.” Hisoka demands breathing hot air into her mouth. “Say it, Machi. Say it feels good.” He slams her into the floor.

“It feels good!” She gasps arching up into him, grasping his arms and yanking his chest into hers. “It feels so fucking good, you bastard.” He groans and Illumi groans and they pound his body into hers, suddenly snapping forward with much more force. “Don’t stop.” She cries out, feeling her edge approaching. The wet pulls, the moaning, the pain. “Don’t stop.” She moans again as Hisoka’s mouth latches onto her neck and his groans reverberate over her skin. “Fuck me.” She says as smooth perfect hardness plunges into her body faster, harder. “Oh fuck.” She moans as their rhythm starts to stutter and Illumi cries out and Hisoka’s hands clench and she can feel him pulsing in her and she contracts around him as the world goes white.

They come down, shuddering and gasping and sweaty. Hisoka bites at her jaw and Machi shoves at him. “Jesus Christ.” She mumbles as he pulls out, and grasps at the condom. Illumi had not used a condom and is hence dripping everywhere. “Eww gross.” Machi admonishes, “Use this” and throws one of their shirts at him.

“Well?” Hisoka smiles smugly, reclining on his side and twirling his used condom.

“Eww.” Machi exclaims a little more forcefully, “Give me that.” She snatches the thing away and marches over to the kitchen garbage, her knees admittedly a little weak.

“That was more pleasant than I imagined.” Illumi says tactfully, sorting through the clothes at his feet. Hisoka hums and continues to look smug on the floor.

“Cool,” Machi says blandly, coming over and finding her own clothes. “You two can see yourselves out.” And then walks into her bedroom heading straight for the shower.

Once under the calming spray, she hears her own voice whisper, “What the fuck” over and over again. What had just happened? She had enjoyed that. She had _enjoyed_ that. Rough and unorthodox and undeniably gratifying as it had been, Machi just stares off into space, shuddering periodically, unable to fully comprehend her decision. She’d let that happen. What was more, she’d wanted it by the end. Heck even at the beginning she’d decided she’d wanted it. And she’s still alive so apparently her gamble paid off. Hisoka wouldn’t threaten her in the same way again. Not now that… _that_ was out of his system.

Machi sighs, letting tension leak out of her shoulders. She’d gambled, trusted her instincts, and came out on top. Well. Not literally. She snorts and turns off the water, breathing calmly and evenly through her nose.

It was the right decision, Machi thinks, as she feels the men’s aura start to fade.

Now she’s bought herself time to get even stronger before the next mission and, though they undoubtedly learned something about her, Machi would wager she learned more about them. She feels prepared for whatever Hisoka decides to throw at her.

**Author's Note:**

> Predictably, I love comments, so let me know what you think!


End file.
